The day is August 14, 2015. I am sitting in a hospital chapel. I’m crying. No, I’m sobbing. My heart is fully broken open, sending tears up to my eyes to be released. I’m on my knees, pleading with God, the Universe, whatever or whoever will listen. “Please save my son, please let him be able to eat, please let the doctors and nurses make the best decisions for him, please let him live.”
I’ve been here before. Not in this specific chapel, but in other rooms of a different hospital. This is heart surgery number four for our son, born with a complex congenital heart defect. He has just celebrated his fourth birthday.
I pause to catch my breath; what if I’m not praying the right way? What if I’m asking for the wrong things? What if any of my poor decisions of my college days come back to haunt me at this moment? What if I’m being punished? What if I lose my son?
I begin ugly crying again. For a brief moment, I wonder if I’ll have to snap out of it and pull myself together if someone else comes into the chapel. I slow my breathing, stop myself from the permission to grieve, and become a more composed human being. “F that”, I think, “I’ve earned this grief”. I easily fall right back into the tears streaming down my face. “This isn’t fair. I don’t want to fight anymore. I just want to be M's Mom. Please, please, please, just let him be OK”.
With that, a calm silence takes over the room and my ears. It’s the type of silence you can actually hear, if that makes sense. I pay attention. I begin to hear a voice in my head repeating a phrase….”ride the wave, ride the wave, ride the wave”. What the hell does that mean? OK, my logic kicks in, this must mean, “stop fighting the wave or you will drown...ride the wave”.
I listen to that voice. I hear it. I honor it. I give it space. I commit. Ride the wave. And, just like that, my heart seals back shut, healed and energized. My tears stop. I take a deep breath. Everything will be ok. I am ready to return to the hospital room and be a Mom.
Mantra:
Just for today, just for this moment of today - I ask for calm silence. I invite clarity. I will “think” with my gut, check in with my heart, and act with my brain. I will "Ride the Wave"